A hand reaching out in the dark

I pushed my chair aside and stood up, heading for the door. But before I could open it, I found Margit standing in front of it, her hand raised as if she were about to knock.

I narrowed my eyes coldly and asked, "Margit? What are you doing here?"

She bowed slightly respectfully before answering in a calm tone, "The Duke ordered me to bring you breakfast. He noticed you hadn't eaten well."

I looked at the silver trolley she'd pushed inside, which carried elegant platters filled with a variety of food, as well as a small platter of exquisite desserts. For a moment, I was surprised—I hadn't thought the Duke would care about me just because I'd lost my appetite...

But I didn't have time to think about that now. I raised my head and looked at Margit coldly before saying, "Put it in the room. I'll eat it later. I have more important matters to do now."

Then I walked past her steadily, without looking back, leaving her standing there as I left the room and headed for my destination.

I walked briskly through the corridors, my heart racing with every step. I was truly excited to meet her, even if she couldn't see or speak to me...

The closer I got, the more I felt something familiar surrounding the place. When I turned around, I saw that room surrounded by magical Floraphy flowers—rare flowers used to preserve mana within a person's body and support their senses.

So, this is the room...

I reached for the handle, about to push the door open, but before I could, it suddenly opened from the inside.

Leonard...!

He was surprised at the sight of me, and looked stunned for a moment before his expression returned to normal. As for me, I quickly concealed my excitement, resuming my usual cold expression.

Leonard looked at me and said in a calm voice, "Oriana... you're here. I was wondering if you'd be here today, because yesterday you didn't."

I didn't answer him, just stared at him coldly, ignoring his question.

But Leonard didn't back down. He continued in a calm tone, "I couldn't ask you about this at the dinner table because of what happened, but... did you use that magical tool?"

I saw his gaze fall to my hand, before he added, "It seems you used it on your hand, the mark has faded... Also, did you use it on the burns on your shoulder?"

I gripped my hand tightly, biting my lip in frustration. I was sick of this... sick of all this delayed attention!

I took a deep breath before answering sharply, "Why do you care?"

His eyebrows rose slightly, as if he hadn't expected my answer, then he said incredulously, "Oriana?"

I laughed softly before replying coldly, "Excuse me, young master, but did you just notice that I'm in this palace? Why are you showing such interest now?"

Then, without waiting for his response, I reached out and pulled the magic tool from my pocket, holding it for a moment before holding it out to him and saying in a stiff tone,

"I've already used it... so, take it. I no longer need it."

I extended my hand toward Leonard, placing the magic tool in his palm, then said coldly,

"Since I've only used it on my hand once, you can ask for something in return, young duke."

He looked at me for a moment before responding in a calm but collected tone,

"Can't you see that you're treating me with disrespect? I've tried to be nice to you, but you seem to insist on acting this way."

I laughed mockingly, but my eyes remained fixed on his sharp gaze. Then I said dryly,

"Nice? Leonard, are you really doing this of your own accord?"

I noticed his eyebrows slightly furrow, but he didn't reply.

"Every time I see you talk to me, it seems like you're trying so hard to be nice, but I don't understand why you bother."

I took a step closer, then added slowly, spitting out each word as if savoring it:

"You don't have to act... no need to try to be nice to me."

There was a moment of silence between us before I continued with a cold smile, my tone devoid of any warmth:

"Because this... is disgusting."

Leonard looked at me with eyes filled with a mixture of emotions, then said in a low but angry voice:

"I don't know when you got so smart... but you're right."

He paused, as if admitting this weighed heavily on him, then continued in a more bitter voice:

"Ever since you came here... ever since my mother brought you, I don't understand why. Why did my father decide to bring Victoria? And why did my mother bring you to this mansion? We were a close-knit family, so why did you have to come?"

He clenched his fist as if trying to stifle his anger, but his voice trembled under the weight of his emotions.

"As if that weren't enough... after you arrived, my mother's condition began to deteriorate. Little by little, until she fell into a coma, and she hasn't woken up yet."

He raised his eyes to look directly at me, his gaze sharp, but one that held a deep pain.

"So now you come and ask me to be nice to you? To love you and Victoria?"

He gave a short laugh, but it was only a mask of bitterness in his voice.

"I'm not doing this because I want to, Oriana. I was just trying to be nice... only because my mother asked me to."

He paused for a moment, his eyes trembling as if fighting back tears he wouldn't let fall, then added in a broken tone, "But maybe I was wrong about that, too.

Wait, does this idiot want to hold me accountable for something I didn't commit?"

I stopped in my tracks, then slowly turned toward him, my tone sharp, my eyes narrowing with suppressed anger.

"Wait, young sir... do you really think I wanted the Duchess to fall into a coma? Or are you trying to indirectly blame me?"

I took a step closer, my voice low, but every word laced with bitterness.

"You know what? You're no different from Oscar... or Victoria. You all blame me for everything, without even thinking to listen to me. Without even once questioning what really happened."

I paused, then took a deep breath, as if trying to suppress the raging anger inside me, but I couldn't stop the sarcasm from seeping into my voice:

"Why can't the solution be simpler? Why don't you all just stay away from me? I'm fed up... I'm fed up with all of you. None of you are different."

I looked directly at him, then raised my hand to pull out the magic tool and toss it carelessly in front of him:

"As for this tool, young master... since I've used it, ask for something in return. Anything you want. Or if you don't want anything, you can now injure me like Oscar did."

I laughed a cold laugh, though my eyes never smiled.

"I know perfectly well that I won't be reciprocating any favors from any of you, so if I ask for something, I'll consider it a favor in return."

Then I slowly raised my other hand, looking at him sharply.

"Or... would you rather not touch me? Since I'm such a disgusting girl in your eyes?"

I let my words hang in the air between us for a moment, then added slowly, my voice low but sharp as a sword:

"If that's the case, then fine... I can injure my hand myself."

"So, young duke... will you finally do us the honor of revealing your request? Or would you prefer that I re-injure my hand myself?"

I looked at him coldly as he stood still, his face grim, his emotions completely unclear—a mixture of anger, shock, and frustration.

Finally, after a moment of tense silence, he answered in a stone-faced voice, "I'll think of something to ask you later... but right now, nothing comes to mind."

I smiled a wry smile and said, my tone slightly mocking, "How kind of you, Your Honor... for not asking me to harm myself."

Then I walked past him with firm steps, stood in front of him for a moment, raised my head slightly, and looked directly into his eyes before continuing,

"So, may I now ask you, Young Duke, to step aside so I can enter the room?"

Leonard sighed in frustration before looking away, then stepped back, clearing the way for me.

"Do as you wish."

I wasted no time in replying. Instead, I raised my head and walked steadily toward the room, passing him without even looking back. I pushed the door open and entered, closing it quietly behind me.

I was greeted by the fragrant scent of rare Floraphy flowers that filled the room, their white petals tinged with purple threads glowing with a faint sheen as if absorbing the light around them. Their delicate roots intertwined with the floor, like a living fabric pulsing with magical energy. They were not merely decorations, but a silent guardian, weaving a web of mana surrounding the room, absorbing excess energy and returning it to maintain Camila's stability. I felt their energy flowing through me, warm and sharp, as if memories of Oriana flowed through my veins with every breath.

I continued walking steadily through the quiet room until I reached the bed in the center. There, stretched out on the velvet mattress, I saw a woman with pink hair cascading around her pale face like the remnants of a flower whose color has faded with time. Her skin was pure white, but it had lost its luster, as if trapped between two worlds: the waking world and the dream world.

She was Duchess Camilla.

I looked at her silently, an inexplicable warmth creeping into my chest. The original Oriana had visited her frequently, had loved her... and I, even though I had never been in her place, could not help feeling a sense of respect for this sleeping lady.

I hesitantly reached out, my fingertips touching her cold hand. She was completely still... unresponsive, with no sign of life other than the slight rise and fall of her chest. I felt a slight prick in my chest, and for a moment, my breath felt shaky.

This woman...

This woman was the only one who had reached out to Oriana in the darkness.

I remembered everything with brutal clarity, as if the images from the past were flashing before me.

Oriana was nothing more than a slave in a nobleman's palace. Not a day passed without her being beaten or humiliated; she was a mere doll crushed underfoot, used as they pleased, then cast aside as if she were nothing. She could no longer bear it, no longer be able to continue in that hell... so she fled.

But the streets were no more merciful.

People stared at her with disgust, pushed her away, and shouted at her whenever she tried to call for help. She would beg for food, only to be beaten and humiliated. She hid in the cold alleys, hungry, covered in mud and blood, silently awaiting the end.

And then, on the brink of death... a hand reached out towards her.

It wasn't another beggar's hand, nor was it a hand reaching out to strike her or steal what little she had left. It was a warm hand, covered in a soft glove, a hand that held strength, sophistication... and compassion.

Duchess Camilla.

She took her into the Duchy. She didn't ask her about her past, she didn't reject her, she didn't treat her like a servant or an outcast. Instead, she gave her a place in this world, offering her warmth, food, comfort, and something she'd never known... a family.

And when her body began to weaken, she didn't leave her. She was always by her side, smiling at her, checking on her, holding her hand when she trembled with fear at night.

She was the first person to truly love her.

That's why... when she fell into this coma, when Duchess Camilla lost everything, it was only natural that Oriana would do the impossible to save her.

I understand now.

I understand why Oriana became a tool in Victoria's hands, why she did everything she was asked to do without question, why she endured the insults, the looks of contempt, and everyone's accusations. It wasn't because she was weak or stupid... but because she was willing to sacrifice herself for the woman she had saved.

I can't call her foolish... because if I were in her place, I would have done the same thing.

But Victoria did nothing to save the Duchess, and Camilla died when Oriana turned eighteen, just one year later.

That was enough to destroy her completely. It wasn't just that she endured everyone's looks, but also their contempt, their disdain, and their hurtful words that gnawed at her day after day. She remained in the Duchy, enduring all of this, only hoping to save the Duchess... but she failed.

Then, something new was born inside her—something dark. She became angrier, more cruel. She would scream for the slightest reason, never hesitating to express her hatred, especially toward Victoria. Nothing mattered to her anymore, and she no longer tried to win anyone's favor.

When the sentence to execute her was pronounced, there were no tears, no resentment, no resistance... only a cold, empty stare, as if she had been waiting for salvation for a long time.

I sat on the chair beside the bed, resting my head on its back, feeling an unbearable weight in my chest. I looked up at the ornate ceiling, but all I could see was emptiness. The air in the room was still, but it was filled with the magical scent of flowers that pervaded the space, as if trying to protect whoever lay on this bed.

I looked at Camilla, and suddenly, her image intertwined with another face in my mind—my mother's, who had once smiled at me with the same warmth before everything fell apart.

I was huddled against the wall, pulling my knees up to my chest and burying my face between them. I was small, barely three years old, but the world felt too big for me to bear.

"Ben Soh... where are you, my daughter?"

My mother's voice came, warm yet weak, drifting over me like a gentle breeze in a storm. I tried to stifle my sobs, but her stumbling footsteps drew closer until I felt her gentle hand on my shoulder.

"What makes you cry like that, my love? Tell me... your mother is here."

I shook my head stubbornly, trying to wipe away my small tears with the sleeve of my dress. "No... nothing, nothing is happening."

But my mother didn't believe me.

A sad smile appeared on her face before she bent down slightly and carried me in her arms, even though she could barely stand. Her body was thin, her face pale, as if the life was slowly draining away from her, but she held me tightly, as if she wanted to protect me from everything.

"Didn't I tell you before?" she whispered in her tired voice, patting my back gently. "I'm your friend too, Bin-suh... so you have to tell me everything that's going on with you, okay?"

I lifted my head slightly and looked at my mother through tearful eyes. I hesitated for a moment, but my older brother's words kept echoing in my head like a painful echo.

"Brother..." I mumbled, my voice trembling. "I was asking him to play with me... but he pushed me away and said he didn't want to."

My mother wrapped her arms around me tenderly, but I felt her trembling hand on my back, which made me even more afraid.

"And he also said..." I gasped, swallowing back my tears before continuing, "He said I was the reason you were tired... and that you'd die because of me."

My mother's eyes widened slightly, then she exhaled softly and stroked my hair with her warm fingers.

"No, Bin Suh, your brother was just teasing you." She smiled despite her pale face, trying to sound cheerful. "I'm not going to die, sweetheart. You know how much he loves to joke, but he only does it in a rather heavy-handed way."

I lowered my gaze hesitantly, but my mother suddenly lifted her shirt sleeve and pointed at her slender arms, trying to look strong.

"Then, don't you see those muscles?" she said, smiling, putting on a strong face as she flexed her arms like a professional boxer. "How dare he say something like that? Your mother is so strong!"

I laughed, even though my tears hadn't dried yet. I looked at her with a small smile, before hugging her tighter and whispering,

"Yes... my mom is the best."

My mom placed a soft kiss on my forehead, as if telling me without words that she would always be by my side, no matter what anyone else said.

But still, what happened next shattered my life completely.

But still, what happened next shattered my life completely.

That moment, that warmth my mother gave me, was just the calm before the storm. I was too young to realize that my brother's words weren't just a heavy-handed joke... but a cruel prophecy that would soon come true.

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